


I'll Catch You When You Fall

by tehfanglyfish



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Needs To Work Through Some Things, Artistic License With Solstice Customs, Awesome Gwen (Merlin), BAMF George, Canon Era, Deviates From Canon, First Kiss, Good Morgana (Merlin), Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Sweet Merlin (Merlin), Winter Solstice, conflicted Arthur, hurt Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21666769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/pseuds/tehfanglyfish
Summary: After discovering Merlin's magic, Arthur needs time alone to sort through his conflicted feelings. With the Winter Solstice rapidly approaching, Merlin leaves clues to show Arthur that magic isn't inherently evil. Will Arthur be able to overcome his sense of betrayal and confess his own secret?
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 689
Collections: Merlin Holidays 2019





	I'll Catch You When You Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Happy Holidays [indyonblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indyonblue) ! 
> 
> You gave me the brilliant prompt: Canon-Era Arthur knows about Merlin's magic now and still doesn't know how he feels about it. Merlin gives Arthur his space but tries to show him that he uses his magic for good. It's not until the winter solstice that Arthur starts to get it. Would love to see repentant Morgana, with Gwen helping her (because she wants to, not as a servant).
> 
> This was a lot of fun to write, so thank you! I hope you enjoy what I came up with.
> 
> Thank you so much to the mods for hosting this amazing fest. 
> 
> Finally, many thanks to my awesome beta, [achrilock-orbicular](https://achrilock-orbicular.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ___________________________  
> Obligatory disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this franchise. Written for the love of Camelot and its fandom, never for money.

“Leave me.”

“Arthur!”

“No. Just… you heard! Just go.”

“But the dishes and your clothes and…”

“George can see to it. Leave.”

“Arthur, I…”

“Now, Merlin!”

In all the years they’d know each other, Arthur had never seen Merlin recoil from him like that. Of course, he’d never used that tone with Merlin before, not even in their earliest days together when he went at Merlin with a mace.

But then, never in all that time had Arthur realized that Merlin, the person he trusted above all others, was actually a sorcerer.

Arthur watched as Merlin made his way to the door. For the briefest moment, he turned as if to say something to Arthur, but stopped when Arthur’s eyes met his own.

Merlin’s anguished expression made Arthur forget the magic. All he wanted to was to call to him, to stop him, to try to reassure him that it would be all right. But he couldn’t, the realization hitting him that Merlin’s reaction was his fault.

And then Merlin was gone, slipping out the door while Arthur could do nothing but watch.

“Shit,” Arthur said to the empty room.

*****

The night had been going so well. Dinner was a leisurely affair in Arthur’s chambers, the roaring fire offering comfort after a bitterly cold day. Though he tried to feign interest in Merlin’s prattle, Arthur had found himself distracted by the way the candlelight accentuated Merlin’s face.

“You didn’t hear a word I said.”

“That’s not true. I just don’t remember it.”

“Prat.”

There was no anger behind the insult, just a gentle teasing.

“What has you so preoccupied?”

“You,” was what Arthur wanted to say. Instead he mumbled some nonsense about training.

Merlin clearly didn’t believe him – training had been cancelled that day because of the cold – but said nothing, instead offering Arthur a smile that made him far warmer than the fire blazing in the hearth.

It was too much for Arthur to bear, the softness of it. If he stayed under Merlin’s gaze much longer, he would confess what was in his heart and he wasn’t ready to do that. Not quite yet – he only needed one more week.

Arthur was waiting for the Winter Solstice. He’d thought about it for months, and after careful consideration, decided that it was the perfect time to let Merlin know that his feelings extended beyond friendship.

There would be the annual feast. He would wait until it was halfway through, when everyone would be too busy reveling to notice the king’s absence, then sneak off to the ramparts. Merlin would follow him – he always did. Away from the prying eyes and straining ears of court, he would tell Merlin, and, if he was right, if he hadn’t misread the signs, kiss Merlin in the moonlight.

And so, to avoid letting his secret spill early, Arthur rose from the table under the pretense of tending to the fire. That was when it all went wrong.

A random accident – Camelot’s finest knight gracelessly tripping over a cloak he’d flung on the floor earlier that day – led to a major revelation that had nothing to do with the state of Arthur’s heart.

Losing his footing, he toppled headlong toward the fireplace, arms outstretched to protect his face from the flames. Time seemed to slow as he fell, his mind calculating the damage he would suffer and the length of his recovery. At least a month, he decided.

The pain he expected never came.

“How?” he asked, as he hovered just above the flames.

The golden glow of Merlin’s eyes answered his question. Scrambling to his feet, Arthur felt his stomach drop.

Without thinking, he reached for the hilt of his sword, the gesture nothing more than a reflex he’d developed when caught off guard. It was missing. Of course it was – he never wore a weapon in his chambers with Merlin. And even if had been there, he had no intention of using it.

But Merlin must not have realized, as he began babbling about the magic only being for Arthur and he’d been born with it and he would never use it for harm, panic rising in his voice.

It was too much – Arthur needed to think and he needed to do it alone. And so he’d ordered Merlin out.

*****

Now Arthur was left sitting in his chambers, trying his best to make sense of what had happened and what it meant. An hour of reflection left him with no solid answers, his thoughts instead caught in a loop with no resolution.

All his life, Arthur had heard about the dangers of magic and evil ways of sorcerers. He’d even seen his fair share of them over the years.

But this wasn’t some vindictive conjurer - this was Merlin, who had stood beside him for more than a decade, putting up with Arthur when he was at his worst, when even Leon and Guinevere avoided him. Not once had Merlin ever asked for anything in return.

And yet Merlin had never told him.

It wasn’t as though they didn’t share secrets. Merlin knew how badly Prince Arthur had wanted his father’s approval, even if Uther had by all measures been a mediocre king and a horrible father.

Merlin had seen how terrified King Arthur was that he would do wrong by his people. It didn’t matter how much praise the knights, the courtiers, and the common people on the street offered – Arthur was painfully aware of how high the stakes were with each decision he made now that he sat on the throne.

On top of it all, Merlin knew of Arthur’s personal insecurities – was he still impressive in the arena, had age and stress led to too many holes in the royal belt?

The only secret Arthur had kept from Merlin was the state of his heart and that was only because he’d been waiting for the Solstice. So why had Merlin kept his magic hidden from Arthur?

Was he plotting something? A coup, revenge for the Great Purge, a way to extort the king? Could a rival monarch have sent him to…

No. Merlin wasn’t a traitor. He’d nearly died for Arthur on more than one occasion. But he _had_ lied.

He couldn’t possibly have feared Arthur would have sent him to the pyre or the noose. Right?

It was true that Morgana had fled from Camelot all those years ago because she feared Uther’s vengeance. At least that was what she said the last time he had seen her.

Uther still reigned when she burst into a council meeting to reveal her magic and what she’d learned about her true parentage, disappearing in a whirlwind before the guards could stop her.

Arthur supposed that she might have been right – it’s possible their father would have killed her for sorcery or her rival claim to the throne. He couldn’t blame _her_ for fleeing.

But Arthur wasn’t Uther – Merlin had to know that. Except he had reached for his sword, which was not a very good move for alleviating fears.

Stop, Arthur thought to himself. He was getting nowhere.

He needed advice. Merlin was out of the question for obvious reasons. While Leon and Guinevere were trusted friends, it didn’t seem right to tell them Merlin’s secret, not yet when Arthur understood so little. So who could he…

Mercifully, a rap on his door pulled Arthur from his thoughts. It couldn’t be Merlin – he never knocked anyway.

“I apologize for bothering you at such a late hour, sire,” Gaius said as Arthur greeted him, “but I felt that there might be a matter you wished to discuss.”

It was strange, Arthur decided, what the mind chose to fixate on, his attention drawn to Gaius’ clothing. Despite the late hour, he’d donned his most formal robes, the ones he wore no more than a handful of times a year at major court functions.

“You knew.”

“Though I mean no disrespect, sire, perhaps we should continue this conversation in the privacy of your chambers.”

He had a point.

“Of course, Gaius. Come in.”

In all the years they’d known each other, Arthur couldn’t recall an instance of Gaius ever behaving so deferential toward him. The averted eyes and repeated bows went beyond normal protocol, more reminiscent of when Uther had been king. Did everyone think Arthur was a horrible as his father?

Arthur sat at the table, the remnants of his dinner with Merlin still spread out.

“Please excuse the mess. I wasn’t expecting company,” Arthur said as he gestured for Gaius to sit at his side, hoping that would set the older man at ease.

“You seem to be without a servant.”

The statement was neutral, but Arthur had known Gaius long enough to hear the questions within it.

“I had one. One I thought I knew well, but…”

“Arthur, he is your friend.”

“And yet he lied. That doesn’t sound like a friend.”

“There is no need to fear him.”

“And there is no need for him to fear me.”

“Do you mean that, sire?”

“Of course, Gaius. I’m not my father. I thought he knew that. I thought _you_ knew that.”

“The laws…”

“Aren’t enforced as they once were.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Is there anything else I should know?”

Arthur could see Gaius thinking this over. Clearly there was more. Arthur wasn’t sure if it hurt more that Merlin had other secrets or that Gaius didn’t trust him enough to say.

“Gaius, I give you my oath that no harm will come to him. I won’t say that I’m happy, and I will need time to think, but he is in no danger from me.”

He did his best to hold Gaius’s gaze, feeling the old man’s eyes search his own. Apparently pleased with what he saw, Gaius let his shoulders relax.

“He has a way with dragons.”

“Then he must be highly skilled.”

“Arthur, he doesn't just have magic - there are those who say he's the greatest sorcerer ever to walk the Earth.”

“Merlin?!”

How could the man who managed to trip over his own feet on a daily basis possess such power? And be so horrible at serving?

Although that might explain some things, namely how he was always at Arthur’s side, even in times of extreme danger. No sword. No armor. Never abandoning Arthur. That counted for a lot.

Though Gaius had said nothing, Arthur knew he had more questions. It was too late to make major decisions, but some immediate matters needed tending to.

“For now, I’m reassigning him. He will assist you for the next week.”

“And when the week is over?”

“I don’t know. But tell him that whatever I decide, he is safe in Camelot. There’s no reason for him to leave unless he no longer wants to be here.”

“Thank you, sire. And now, if you have no objections, I will excuse myself. It’s very late and I need my rest.”

“Of course, Gaius.”

As the older man stood to leave, Arthur felt a hand on his shoulder. For the first time in hours, he felt a sense of normalcy. At least Gaius was no longer treating him like Uther.

“Ah, one last thing. I brought a sleeping draught, just in case you might want it.”

“Thank you, Gaius. I doubt I would be able to rest tonight without it.”

“Merlin thought that might be the case. Good night Arthur.”

For the second time that night, Arthur found himself alone in his chambers with much to think about.

*****

The next week left Arthur with a deep sense of emptiness. Even surrounded by people, he felt very alone.

It didn’t help that he had to begin each morning with George. From a technical standpoint, George was everything that one could want in a servant. He provided prompt service, was extremely meticulous, and possessed a natural affinity for polishing. He also had a no-nonsense approach to the job that didn’t include playful morning banter.

While Arthur had experienced this in the past when Merlin had been recovering from a night at the tavern or away visiting Hunith, it was different this time. There was nothing Arthur could pinpoint as a deviation from protocol. In fact, George’s demeanor was even more formal than usual. Beneath it all, though, was an marked iciness that Arthur had never encountered before.

It began the morning after Merlin’s revelation.

“If you would allow me, I will serve your breakfast.”

“Thank you, George.”

“There is no need, sire. I serve at your pleasure.”

“Regardless, I appreciate you arriving with such short notice.”

“Well, sire, the king must be attended. It is a comfort to know that if you were to suddenly grow displeased with my performance, even after years of dedication, you could easily dismiss me and have someone else ready to fetch your meals the next morning. If a king didn’t find it easy to replace his servants, think of the effect it might have on the stability of governance.”

“George, is this about Merlin?”

“Forgive me, my lord, but I don’t know what you mean.”

“You must be wondering why I summoned you.”

“I would never question your decisions, sire. I am but a humble servant, a maker of beds. There are many who could take my place, should I cause you offense. Servants come and go all the time. I’m sure that if you no longer desire Merlin’s services, even after a decade of loyalty and devotion, you have a very good reason for it. Now if you’re ready for your bacon…”

Arthur had never known George and Merlin to get along with one another. Usually they kept their distance, the entire staff of the castle fully aware that they had differing philosophies when it came to serving. And yet, full facts unknown, George was standing up to Arthur in Merlin’s defense.

George wasn’t the only one behaving strangely.

As Arthur approached the armory, he could hear the knights bantering with one another. When he entered the room, their demeanor changed entirely, easy laughs and playful barbs replaced by silence. They stood at attention, the perfect fighting force awaiting his command.

“As you were,” he said.

No one moved until Leon gave the slightest of nods. Conversation resumed, though not with the enthusiasm of before. Everyone avoided looking at him. Not sure of what else to do, he approached Leon to confer about the day’s training, but was cut off from speaking when Gwaine’s voice carried across the room.

“I’ve always said that nobility is defined by what you do, not who you are.”

Percival nodded solemnly in response, as did Elyan.

The look Gwaine leveled at him indicated that perhaps this was a commentary on recent staffing changes.

Gwaine’s anger hadn’t abated when they made it to the training ground. Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to work so hard to hold his own in a sparring match, his body soon soaked in sweat despite the winter chill.

It stung a little that the knights had applauded so loudly for Gwaine when he finally bested the king. Yes, Arthur should have seen that last blow coming, but he was distracted. Probably because he’d stayed up too late the previous night. And Merlin wasn’t there to cheer him on.

Though they had been standoffish, at least George and the knights were willing to interact with him. As Arthur headed back his chambers, he passed Guinevere. Normally she would stop to talk but today she rushed past as though she didn’t even see him.

There was a bath waiting – George had no doubt anticipated Arthur would want one – but no one was around to help him undress. Not that it mattered – a king should be able to take his own clothes off.

Though Arthur was one to usually leave discarded garments strewn about where they fell, something in George’s demeanor from that morning left him depositing them in a basket before stepping into the tub.

The water was warmish, but not steaming hot. Soap had been provided, but not the lavender kind that Arthur liked. The room was silent, no one waiting to commiserate with him about his loss to Gwaine or share gossip or even to help him work through policy decisions.

For the first time in years, Arthur rushed through bathing.

*****

The next two days passed in much the same manner, the entire castle staff offering the king a cold shoulder or exaggerated deference. Arthur wasn’t sure which was worse.

It was the evening of the third day that offered a glimmer of hope.

Unsure of what else to do with himself, Arthur had been heading to his chambers after the council meeting had concluded. The meeting had been a waste of time. It was rare that any serious business got conducted this close to Solstice.

In the past, the only thing that had made such drudgery bearable was Merlin’s mischievous grin distracting Arthur from whatever ancient councilor was droning on at length about some dull and irrelevant topic.

I wonder what they would do if I interrupted to announce a repeal of the magic ban, Arthur thought to himself. _That_ would liven things up.

Again he passed Guinevere on the stairs and she again pretended not to see him. Still, he was so lonely and desperate for a friend that he decided to risk speaking to her.

“You… um… your hair looks nice.”

She had it done up in braids, purple blossoms woven in. It suited her.

Guinevere paused, then turned to face him. Arthur tried his best not to wilt under her gaze.

“It… where did you get flowers in winter?”

“A friend,” she said, before continuing down the stairs.

The encounter left Arthur with the clear impression that Guinevere did not presently count him among her friends. If only he could tell her what had happened. Arthur wasn’t being cruel – he’d been lied to and betrayed. If she knew the truth, she would take his side.

But maybe not. Guinevere’s fierce loyalty to those she cared for and her willingness to stand up for what was right, even to Arthur, was part of why he had tried to court her all those years ago. Even with the full knowledge of what had happened, she would probably call Arthur an ass. He wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t deserve it.

Finally in his chambers, Arthur began the nightly ritual of preparing for bed alone. Stripping clothes, combing hair, turning down covers. It wasn’t until he went to extinguish the candles that he saw it – in the middle of the table sat a vase teeming with fresh flowers.

Where they had come from, Arthur couldn’t say. They were all varieties found in late spring and early summer, far too delicate to grow this late in the year. The fragrance was amazing. As Arthur buried his face in the blossoms, inhaling deeply, he felt some of the tension he’d been carrying the past three days start to drain.

Someone out there cared enough to bring him flowers. Who could it have been? And who would have realized how much he would appreciate the gesture? The only person he’d ever told about his love of flowers was Merlin.

Oh.

Could Merlin have made them using magic? Arthur had seen sorcerers use their abilities to conjure monsters. Maybe that same power could be used to create things of beauty as well.

Cautiously, Arthur set the vase back on the table, unsure of what to do.

If Uther had been there, he would have told Arthur to get rid of them, cast them in the fire before they caused him harm. That would be stupid. They didn’t seem dangerous, just beautiful.

It was late and Arthur was tired. Deciding that the matter could be sorted in the morning, he climbed into bed, enjoying the floral scent that filled the room as he drifted off to sleep.

*****

Merlin continued to stay out of sight the next two days, though Arthur found obvious clues that his wayward servant hadn’t entirely heeded his directions to stay away.

The following day proved to be the coldest thus far. There was no reason to drag the knights out in the bitter chill, though the king failed to heed his own advice. Despite pleas from Gaius and Leon to stay by the fire, Arthur spent much of the afternoon outside, swinging his sword at a wooden dummy. The flowers, safe in his chambers, had given him more to think about.

As dusk settled, Arthur was no closer to knowing what to do than he had been that first night when he had discovered Merlin’s magic. Sorcery had the power to kill – Arthur had witnessed it firsthand – and yet it could create something as soft and lovely as the blossoms waiting for him.

Merlin had betrayed Arthur, broken his heart, by withholding his secret. But Arthur missed him terribly.

Should he send Merlin back to Ealdor? Was it time to lift the ban? What he really wanted more than anything was to go back to a simpler time in his life, say a week ago, when the most difficult dilemma he to face was what tunic to wear to the Solstice feast.

Lost in his thoughts, Arthur didn’t notice that the sun had set and that the air had grown colder until Leon came out to retrieve him.

“Are you alright, my lord?”

Arthur’s teeth were chattering as they made their way back inside the castle.

“Of course,” Arthur replied, his whole body shivering. He really should have worn more layers.

“Maybe we should take you to Gaius, just in case. Your lips are blue.”

For the briefest of moments, Arthur considered it. It wasn’t that he was worried. All he needed to recover was an hour in front of the fire. What Arthur wanted was someone to fret over him, like Merlin did. Having Gaius scold him for staying out too long, then forcing him to eat soup sounded like a perfect end to the day.

But Merlin would be there, probably hiding in his room to avoid Arthur.

“I’ll be fine, Leon. I just need a hot meal and a bath.”

Taking his leave of Leon, Arthur continued down the corridor. Tonight it wasn’t Guinevere that he passed, but George.

“Apologies, sire, but I didn’t expect you so late. I left your dinner on the hearth to keep it warm, but I fear your bathwater may have cooled. I can boil more to…”

The last thing Arthur wanted was more time alone with George. Breakfast had been a tense affair, as George had offered unsolicited commentary on friendship and how it didn’t mean as much as it used to. 

“It’s alright, George. I can make do. You’ve had a long day and I kept you waiting far too late.”

George gave a curt nod, then departed.

Great. Arthur was both cold and sweaty, a miserable combination, and now he would have to wash off in a lukewarm bath. He had no one to blame but himself, which made matters worse. He shouldn’t have stayed outside brooding so long.

Again, he entered his chambers alone, relieved to at least be able to extract himself from his filthy clothes. He wandered toward the bath as he peeled off his tunic.

What had George been on about? The water was so warm it was steaming. What’s more, petals from Arthur’s bouquet were floating on top, the heat amplifying their fragrance.

After kicking off his boots, Arthur shimmied out of trousers and smallclothes, then stepped into the water. As he sat, warm water enveloping his frozen body, he let out a sigh. This was about as perfect as a bath could get.

Arthur had eased back against the wall of the tub when he heard it – the click of the doorlatch from the side entrance to his room, the one that led to the servants’ stairway. Through the door he heard footsteps trailing away from his chambers.

In that moment Arthur knew exactly who had tended to his bath. He seriously doubted Merlin had hauled in more boiling water.

Fine. He was too cold to care about the obvious use of magic. If anything, it made Arthur smile. The world’s greatest sorcerer apparently used his vast power to cheat at chores. And wasn’t so consumed by anger or fear that he wouldn’t risk getting caught to make sure Arthur was comfortable.

The question of what to do with Merlin and the magic ban remained, but it could wait. For now, all Arthur wanted was to soak in the warmth Merlin had created for him.

*****

It wasn’t until the fifth day that he caught a glimpse of Merlin.

Arthur had gone for a walk to clear his head, making sure to dress properly for the cold. He had little choice – the temperature had fallen considerably from the day before and a thick cloak and gloves were a must.

Bundled up against the biting air, Arthur meandered around the castle grounds, no clear destination in mind. Rounding the corner from behind the stables, he saw two familiar figures.

Guinevere stood to the side as Merlin was crouched down inspecting something on the ground. They were talking, their voices were too low for him to hear.

Arthur froze in his tracks. As the king of the realm, he could go where he pleased. At the same time, he wasn’t sure of what he would say if he approached them. He knew Merlin wasn’t evil and cared for him on some level. But there were things they needed to talk about – the lies for one – and Arthur still hadn’t decided about the ban.

Unsure of what else to do, Arthur crept back behind the corner of the stable. He would leave Merlin and Guinevere to… whatever it was they were doing. It was rude to spy on people and they were entitled to their privacy. He was going to walk away. Right now. In just a minute. After he snuck one more glance at Merlin. Gods, how he’d missed looking at him.

Carefully, he craned his head around the corner of the building.

Merlin had risen from his crouch. He was holding something small and dark in his hands. Was that a swallow? Though flocks of them were a common sight in the spring and summer, they usually left by Samhain, the Camelot winter far too harsh for their small bodies.

Poor creature, thought Arthur. It didn’t stand a chance in the day’s cold.

Cradled in Merlin’s hands, the bird lay limp. Guinevere had pursed her lips, a hand lingering above it but not quite touching. Then she said something to Merlin and he nodded.

As he lifted the bird close to his face, Arthur could see Merlin’s lips moving, though he couldn’t make out the words. For the second time this week he saw gold shining in Merlin’s eyes, just as it had the night Merlin had saved him from the fire.

The three of them watched and waited, Guinevere and Merlin unaware that Arthur, too, was holding his breath in anticipation of what would happen.

A minute passed, followed by another. Maybe Merlin had been too late, the cold taking its toll long before he arrived. Apparently Guinevere thought the same thing, as she rested a hand on Merlin’s arm as if to comfort him.

Just as Arthur was about to walk away, it happened, a slight movement in the small body Merlin cradled in his hands. It took the bird a few tries to stand. Steady on its feet, it began flapping its wings, testing them, before taking off into the air.

Merlin watched the swallow as it flew away, but Arthur couldn’t tear his gaze away from Merlin. Lips that were too-red from the cold broke into a smile that lit up his whole face. Five nights earlier, it had taken all of Arthur’s self-control to resist kissing those lips. Now he was feeling that same temptation again.

How could magic be anything but beautiful when Merlin was the one wielding it?

Arthur knew he’d lingered too long when he felt someone watching him. Looking away from Merlin, his eyes met Guinevere’s. Her gaze was cautious, her body stiff, as if waiting to see what he would do next.

Did she really think he would run out and arrest Merlin after such an act of kindness? Arthur tried to fight back his hurt feelings – he couldn’t expect her to trust him if he hadn’t yet budged on the laws.

And so, giving her a small smile and quick nod, Arthur retreated, leaving Merlin and Guinevere to celebrate the bird’s survival without him, as he pondered what he should do about the mess Uther had left him.

*****

The next morning Arthur awoke with a sense of purpose. He’d spent the night mulling about what he should do, reaching a decision just before dawn. He clearly wasn’t capable of solving this dilemma on his own. He needed advice and only one person could help him.

Fortunately, the king’s agenda was free. The Solstice celebrations stopped castle business for a few days, so it didn’t matter than he’d slept late. George had left his breakfast but hadn’t bothered to wake him, the man’s demeanor growing colder the longer he remained in the king’s service. Arthur ate quickly then set out on his mission.

“Where’s Guinevere?” he asked a passing maid as he stepped into the corridor.

“I haven’t seen her, my lord. If you need linens or…”

“No, that’s alright. Carry on.”

The scene repeated itself as he made his way through the castle.

Though most of the servants were busy attending to preparations for the next day’s feast, he got multiple offers of assistance when he stopped them to ask after Guinevere, but no leads on where she had gotten off to.

Arthur really needed to talk to her. She knew Merlin’s secret and yet she hadn’t rejected him. How long had she known? Had Merlin told her years ago or only after the other night? Arthur knew she and Merlin were close friends and that jealousy was a useless emotion, but it hurt to know that Merlin might have trusted her more than him.

Never mind all that. If he could track her down, Guinevere would give him brutally honest advice and that was what he needed. He always thought she would make a brilliant queen – he still did if the truth was told.

Was it possible for her to take the throne without marrying him? He should speak with Geoffrey to see if there was a precedent. After, of course, he sorted policy relating to sorcery.

Arthur resumed his search.

He checked the laundry and the kitchens. He moved on to the visiting nobles’ sleeping chambers where he got cornered by aristocrats who had arrived from the countryside for Solstice. Why did they have to shove their daughters at him year after year?

“As you can see, my lord, Gretchen’s beauty only grows. We thought you might also want to know that we’ve increased her dowry to…”

Arthur tried his best to be polite, more for the sake of the young women than their fathers. He remembered the pressure he’d been under when Uther had tried to use him to cement alliances. He stayed long enough to not appear rude, then hurried on. He needed to find Guinevere.

She wasn’t in any of the storerooms, the pantry, or any of the other places he checked. As the sun began to set, he decided to try her house.

It was not unheard of for the king to call in the Lower Town, but Arthur still got questioning stares as he knocked on her door.

There was no answer. He walked around, peering in the windows. The rooms were dark and no smoke rose from her chimney. Where could she be?

“Excuse me, sire, but are you looking for Gwen?”

“Yes, my lady. Have you seen her?”

An older woman had approached from a neighboring house. She kept her eyes averted while addressing him, her face worried.

“Gwen left yesterday afternoon, my lord. I’m not sure where she was headed, but she had packed a bag. She’s not in any kind of trouble, is she?”

“No, not at all. I only wished to speak with her.”

“That’s good to hear, my lord. I…”

Though Arthur’s mind was racing with thoughts about Guinevere’s sudden departure, he tried to be patient with the woman.

“What is it?” he asked, trying to keep his tone friendly.

“It’s just… she’s a good girl, our Gwen. I would hate to hear she’d been banished. When we heard about what happened to… never mind. I’m just glad Gwen’s alright.”

She hurried away before Arthur could reply. What was that about? Why would she think Guinevere had been exiled? What did she mean “what happened to”? Oh. This was about Merlin. Apparently the entire kingdom knew what Arthur had done and they weren’t pleased.

At least he had been able to set the record straight about Guinevere’s departure – it wouldn’t do for the people to think he was randomly exiling trusted friends. Why would she leave? Of course, she wasn’t a prisoner in Camelot – she was free to come and go – but… were she and Merlin running off together?

Arthur knew that at one point, when Merlin had first arrived in Camelot, they had shared a brief flirtation, but hadn’t that long since been over? Maybe Merlin had been keeping more from Arthur than just his magic.

It wasn’t dignified for a king to run through the castle corridors, but Arthur didn’t care. He needed to know...

Gaius opened the door after the third knock.

“Where’s Merlin?”

“Might I ask why you’re looking for him, sire?”

Arthur realized the mistake he’d made as soon as Gaius responded. Banging on the man’s door late in the evening, demanding to know Merlin’s whereabouts… it might give the wrong impression.

“He’s in no danger, Gaius. I… Guinevere left yesterday and I thought…”

Gaius dropped his neutral expression, his face softening.

“There is no need to worry, Arthur. Gwen has gone to visit an old friend, but she’ll be back in a day or two. Merlin hasn’t left. I can’t say exactly where he is at the moment but…”

“That means he’s at the tavern. I should have known. Thank you, Gaius. I’ll let you get back to your work.”

Arthur knew Gaius had another question, but it was one Arthur wasn’t quite ready to answer.

Well, that was a relief. At least Merlin and Guinevere hadn’t gone into involuntary exile together. Part of Arthur wanted to head to the tavern, just to catch a glimpse of Merlin, to see what he got up to when Arthur wasn’t around. But that would only cause problems, and besides, it was cold and getting late.

He’d need a good night’s sleep before tomorrow’s festivities. Though Merlin would hardly call it work, Arthur had much to do before the feast began. There were dignitaries to meet, diplomatic envoys to receive, the annual speech to give, and…

Oh gods… the speech!

His preoccupation with Merlin and magic had kept him distracted the past few days and he hadn’t given the speech any thought. This wasn’t the first time Arthur had forgotten but normally Merlin was there to save him. That was one duty George wouldn’t know about and anyway, Arthur didn’t think he wanted George writing it – the entire audience would be bored, possibly to death.

So much for getting to bed on time.

Arthur hurried to his chambers, trying to think of what to write along the way. There would need to be something about the warmth of friends and the return of the sun and… Arthur tried to remember what Merlin had written the previous year. Why couldn’t there be a tournament instead of a speech?

Bracing himself for the long night ahead, Arthur entered his chambers. Just like the previous few nights, he found the rooms deserted but tonight Arthur didn’t have time to care.

As he approached the desk, he heard the sound of scratching on parchment. Under its own power, his quill was moving rapidly down the page, pausing periodically to dip itself into the inkwell, then resuming its task.

It was magic – it had to be. Nothing else could explain it.

That realization caused Arthur to pause. He wasn’t afraid. Despite the lies, he trusted Merlin enough to know he was in no danger. However, there was something unsettling about inanimate objects coming to life.

Finally reaching the bottom of the parchment, the quill hesitated with the last few words, then fell against the table. Waiting a few seconds to make sure it was done, Arthur finally approached. Lifting the page from the desk, he began to read.

Of all the holiday speeches he’d ever given, this had to be the most eloquent. The sections on family and friends were especially touching, but the bit about light in the darkness and hope for the future almost moved Arthur to tears.

Magic or not, if Merlin had been in the room, Arthur would have had no choice but to hug him.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked the empty room, but it had no answer.

*****

Arthur’s dilemma had not been resolved while he slept, the same circular arguments about lies and love and heartache and secrets playing out in his mind as he rushed through breakfast.

George refused to allow the king to dress himself.

“I’m perfectly capable of…”

“With all due respect sire, no, you’re not. Especially not for a formal occasion. Now let me comb your hair.”

“Merlin was never this rough,” Arthur muttered as George fought with a tangle.

“Yes, well, Merlin’s not here, is he?” George replied, not bothering to keep the teeth of the comb from scraping Arthur’s scalp. “Because _someone_ felt he wasn’t good enough. Now you’re stuck with me. Stop fidgeting. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

Before this week Arthur would never have described George as intimidating, but something in the man’s tone suggested it would be best for Arthur to sit still.

Though the morning and afternoon passed in a diplomatic haze, Arthur receiving countless well-wishes from courtiers seeking his favor, he did manage to step out for a moment to clear his head before the start of the feast.

The weather was everything one could want for Solstice – cold, yes, but no longer painfully so. Snow had fallen the night before – enough to set the mood and delight children, but not enough to cause a nuisance. It contrasted nicely with the evergreen wreaths and red banners hung throughout the courtyard.

It was almost too perfect, as if someone possessing the power to control the weather had gone all out to create the ideal Solstice. Maybe it was simply a coincidence, but Arthur had a growing suspicion that Merlin had his hands in this as well.

After a few minutes, Arthur retreated back inside, ushered by Leon. Making his way through corridors adorned with decorative garlands, Arthur approached the banquet hall.

Despite the festive setting, Arthur’s heart ached. This was supposed to be the night where he confessed his feelings to Merlin. Instead, they hadn’t spoken in almost a week.

Would Merlin be at the feast? If he was there, would he acknowledge Arthur? Was there any hope that they might reconcile? Had the week of silence caused an irreparable gulf between them?

Damn it, it was Merlin’s fault that everything had gone wrong and yet Arthur felt as though he was the one who had failed.

But these matters could wait – Arthur put on his most regal face and addressed the crowd. It took a quarter of an hour to recite the speech Merlin had written for him. Arthur didn’t dare search for his face in the crowd, lest he not be able to finish. When he finally stopped speaking, there was hardly a dry eye in the room.

“That was beautiful, sire,” Leon whispered as Arthur took his seat.

The mood lightened as food was distributed, nobles and servants alike stuffing themselves as they talked and laughed, the divisions of station lessening for the celebration.

It took a few goblets of wine but even Arthur had been able to relax, at least a little. He hoped it wasn’t obvious that he was scanning the room for one face in particular, not that it mattered. Merlin was nowhere to be seen.

It was about an hour into the celebrations when tragedy struck.

To keep the revelers’ plates full and the workload easier, the serving staff had assembled a miniature kitchen using the large fireplace in the banquet hall. All had gone well until a forgotten cauldron of soup began to boil over. Desperate to save it, a maidservant ran forward to pull it off the spit.

Maybe it was the weight of the kettle or the force she used to grab it – whatever the cause, as she spun around, the scalding contents sloshed out, dowsing another maid who had come to help.

Arthur rushed toward her, clearing a path so Gaius could make his way through the encircling crowd.

It was bad. Very bad, her skin bright red and blistering from the boiling liquid. She lay on the floor whimpering, sounds reminiscent of those Arthur had heard over the years on the battlefield.

Careful not to touch her, Gaius looked the young woman over.

“I’m going to need help to save her,” he said to the king.

Arthur nodded, not fully comprehending what Gaius meant.

“I’ll be right back,” Gaius said. “Leave her where she is.”

“You’re very brave,” Arthur said. “It’s going to be ok. Gaius has patched me up more times than I can count. He’ll take care of you, too.”

Though the physician was only gone for a minute or two, it felt like an eternity, the room almost silent waiting for his return.

“If you’ll step aside, sire,” Gaius murmured.

It was only as Arthur backed away that he realized that Gaius hadn’t returned alone. Merlin gave Arthur the briefest of glances, then turned his attention to the woman lying on the floor.

Merlin knelt.

“Hi, Martha. I know you don’t feel so great right now, but Gaius and I are going to take care of you, ok? I’m going to use a new treatment and it may seem a little strange, but just stay with me.”

Of course Merlin would know her name.

All Arthur could see was Merlin’s back as he hunched over Martha. He was saying words, though Arthur couldn’t understand them – it must be the spell – then nothing happened. Again, Merlin tried, the same words, this time louder. Martha continued to cry out in pain, her condition unchanged.

“Gaius, I don’t know if I can…”

“You can and you will,” Arthur said, assuming the tone of command.

Merlin’s head whipped around, his blue eyes meeting Arthur’s. Was that rage or hurt or… there was no time to dwell on it.

“Now, Merlin.”

Taking a deep breath, Merlin resumed his efforts, this time placing his hands on Martha’s shoulders as he shouted out the incantation. The golden light from his eyes illuminated the corner where she’d fallen, the fire even appearing dim in comparison.

Merlin sat back on his heels, waiting. Arthur forgot to breathe, as did the rest of the room, complete silence descending.

Then Martha sat up. Where her skin had been red and blistered before, it was now healed, no trace of the previous damage left on her body.

“Easy,” Gaius said. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal. How do you feel?”

“Fine,” she replied, no trace of pain in her voice. “The best I’ve felt in ages, actually. I really should get back to…”

“Let me examine you in the infirmary, just as a precaution.”

Even after Gaius and Martha departed, the room remained silent.

It took a minute for Arthur to realize that all eyes were now on him. Merlin had just performed powerful magic in front of half of Camelot. They were waiting to see what the king would do.

Arthur wasn’t entirely sure of what he wanted to say to Merlin, but he was certain that whatever came out of his mouth, he didn’t want an audience for it. Perhaps more roughly than was warranted, Arthur grabbed Merlin by the collar to raise him from the floor.

“We are not to be disturbed,” he said as he dragged Merlin from the banquet hall and into the castle corridor.

Arthur didn’t know where he was going – he just wanted to be away from prying eyes. He pulled Merlin with him through the first door he came to.

Well, he had managed to accomplish one part of his original plan. He and Merlin were alone outside on Solstice.

The night sky was beautiful, stars and moon shining down brightly, the clouds that brought the snow having long since cleared out. The wind was biting and Arthur really wished he’d brought a cloak, but at least the outdoor mezzanine gave them privacy.

He leaned against the railing, gazing out at the streets below. Merlin adopted the same stance, though he kept his distance, staying more than arm’s length away. Arthur didn’t like it; they’d been apart too much over the past week. He shifted closer, so that their elbows bumped.

“It’s freezing out here. I don’t suppose you can do anything about it.”

Merlin turned to face him.

“You want me to…”

Arthur nodded.

There it was again – the flash of gold that Arthur still hadn’t gotten used to. He felt the air around him warm. It wasn’t exactly balmy, but he no longer worried that bits of him might freeze off.

“You should have told me.”

“I wanted to.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“At first, because I didn’t know you. Later, because I didn’t want you to have to choose between me and your father.”

“And after he was gone?”

“Habit, I suppose.”

“That’s not good enough, Merlin.”

“I know… I… you never changed the laws and I thought…”

“What? That I wanted to hunt down children? Or kill old women for saving their relatives?”

“No, but the ban…”

“Is rarely enforced. I haven’t gotten rid of it because I don’t know how. There are magical threats out there…”

“More than you know.”

Arthur glared at Merlin to shut him up. It worked.

“My own sister even used sorcery to attack Camelot and…”

“She never did.”

“Of course she did. Because Morgause said…”

“Morgause lied. To Morgana and to you. She _was_ Morgana’s half-sister but all she wanted was power. Her plan was use Morgana as an avenue to the throne – have Morgana usurp it from Uther, then Morgause would steal it from her.”

“So what happened?”

“Morgana stopped her. With some help.”

“From you?”

In the light from the moon, Arthur could see Merlin nod.

“And where’s Morgana now?”

“In Ealdor, staying with my mother. It was the safest place for her. No one there knows who she is.”

Arthur considered this. For the past couple of years, he’d assumed Morgana was biding her time, planning an attack against him. It was a relief to know Hunith had been caring for her.

“How many times have you saved my life, Merlin?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“That many then.”

Arthur knew he was supposed to be chastising Merlin for lying to him but he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride and affection.

“Thank you. For taking care of my sister. And me. Though you should have told me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Good. You should be. Friends don’t lie to each other. Not about important things.”

“I know.”

“You confided in Guinevere.”

“Only after you found out, I swear. I was so afraid and I needed to talk to someone and…”

“I wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me.”

“It’s more complicated than that. I…”

“What?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Doesn’t matter – no more secrets, Merlin.”

“It’s… There’s this way that you look at me. Mostly when we’re alone and you think I’m not watching. I know you’re the king and I’m a servant but… it’s as if I’m all you can see. And I like it, more than I should. It always made me think that maybe… Anyway, I worried that if you knew, you might never look at me like that again.”

Arthur said nothing, his mind trying to process this latest revelation. Did that mean what he thought it did?

“And I was right, because the other night, when you did find out… You’ve kept me away all week because you think I’m a monster.”

“No, Merlin, never. I won’t lie – I was hurt that you hadn’t told me, very surprised, and a little afraid. But not of you. Never of you.”

Arthur could hear Merlin swallow, but he said nothing.

“I thought I knew you – your kind heart, and bravery, and big ears… but this week you showed me that there was so much more to you than I realized. I needed time to think, to figure out what to do with you.”

“And what did you decide?”

Until that moment, Arthur hadn’t been sure. All week long he’d been agonizing over his decision, thinking himself in circles. It turns out all he had needed to find clarity were a few minutes alone with Merlin.

“That I’m going to stick to my original plan – the one I’ve been formulating for the past month.”

As Merlin gave him a questioning look, Arthur shifted his arm so that he could reach Merlin’s hand, taking it in his own. Merlin’s fingers were surprisingly warm.

It was the simplest of gestures and yet it was thrilling and terrifying and… Merlin gave his hand a small squeeze. It pulled Arthur back from his thoughts and gave him the courage he needed to keep going.

“You’re not the only one who’s been keeping a secret, Merlin. I had been planning to tell you tonight. It’s what I was thinking about when I almost fell into the fire. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t pay attention… but you were there to catch me. You’ve always stood by me, though I didn’t realize what that entailed until this week. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you to always have to hide, to hold back, never once getting credit…”

“It’s not why I do it.”

“But you deserve it. And to know…”

He turned to face Merlin. When Arthur had played out this scenario in his mind, countless times at night before falling asleep, he always envisioned staring into Merlin’s eyes while he laid out his heart.

What he hadn’t counted on was the effect that doing so would have on him. Maybe it was the moonlight or the fact that he hadn’t been able to get a proper look at Merlin all week. Regardless of the cause, Arthur completely forgot the prepared declaration of love he’d been composing for months.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.”

“Oh Arthur,” Merlin sighed.

Two words, spoken so softly, and Arthur was undone – all plans derailed. Some part of his mind tried to prod him forward, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. To have Merlin say his name like that – it was too much, the tenderness of it threatening to overwhelm him.

Then the distance between them was closing, Merlin coming to Arthur’s rescue one more time.

This is really happening, Arthur thought as chapped lips met his own.

He couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped, the contact pulling him out of his stupor. Merlin laughed gently, his lips still touching Arthur’s. As warm breath ghosted across his face, Arthur tried to deepen the kiss, to pour out all he’d meant to say when words failed him.

It was not the most graceful of endeavors – a tangle of lips and tongues, awkward bumps of noses and teeth – but Merlin didn’t seem to mind. He moaned, then extended an arm around Arthur, pulling their bodies flush, keeping their fingers intertwined.

Arthur melted into the solid form pressed against him. Desperate to get closer, Arthur’s free hand trailed down Merlin’s back, lifting the hem of his tunic to gain access to the soft skin underneath, his efforts earning another moan of approval.

It was when Arthur tried to further close the distance between them, adjusting his legs to wedge a knee between Merlin’s thighs, that things went horribly wrong.

As he shifted his feet, he slid on a patch of ice on the walkway, toppling backward and pulling Merlin down with him.

Right before his head crashed against the stone below, Arthur found himself again hovering in the air, just as he had a week earlier.

“Twice in one week,” Arthur said as Merlin righted them on their feet. “I fear I’m becoming as clumsy as you are.”

“You know I’ll always catch you when you fall,” Merlin replied. “Even if you try to send me away.”

Arthur felt his cheeks warm, this time from shame.

“I missed you so much,” Arthur whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that lonely. Though I imagine it was worse for you.”

“It was awful. I thought you hated me. The way you looked at me…”

“I was a fool who reacted poorly. But even after that, you kept taking care of me – the flowers, the bath, the speech.”

Arthur traced a finger along Merlin’s cheek.

“Plus you saved the bird. And then tonight, with Martha… You said you worried that I would think you were a monster – Merlin, you have such power but you only use it for good. How could I not love you?”

“Well, I’ve always said you were a clotpole.”

“True. And I was. But, if you let me, I’ll try my best to make it up to you.”

“And how will you do that?” Merlin asked. “A day off?”

“Two.”

“That’s generous.”

“Not entirely.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… um… had some ideas. About how you might spend the time… with me. If you want to, of course. I understand if…”

“You really are a clotpole,” Merlin teased, kissing Arthur gently. “But I love you anyway. Now when do my days off begin?”

“Well, we probably should return to the feast – let the kingdom know that my sorcerer servant isn’t in danger – you wouldn’t believe the dirty looks I’ve gotten this week.”

“Serves you right.”

“Whatever. I should probably announce that some major policy changes are coming with regard to sorcery.”

“Does that mean you’re going to lift…”

“I’ll need your help to do it correctly, but yes.”

As Merlin’s face pressed into his shoulder, Arthur hugged him tightly.

“And, after you’ve had a minute to eat and socialize, perhaps we could finish up Solstice celebrations somewhere more private. Maybe my chambers?”

Before Merlin could reply, the door to the mezzanine flew open.

“So help me, Arthur Pendragon, if you’ve hurt him, you’ll spend Solstice in hell with Uther!”

Arthur felt fingers grab his arm, spinning him around to face…

“Morgana?”

She didn’t respond immediately, though her expression softened.

“Oh,” she said after a minute. “When they said you dragged Merlin outside, I thought…”

“Hi, Morgana,” Merlin said, still wrapped up in Arthur’s arms.

“Happy Solstice,” offered Arthur, trying to figure out what had happened. “I didn’t expect…”

“Gwen came to get me,” Morgana explained. “She said you’d learned Merlin’s secret, but that you hadn’t decided what to do with him. I knew he wouldn’t leave on his own, so I was going to stage a rescue to take him back to Ealdor.”

“What if I don’t want to go?”

“Well, since you don’t appear to be in any danger, I guess I’ll leave you to your celebrations.”

“Wait,” Arthur called as she made to leave. “You just got here and it was a long ride. I’m sure you’re tired and hungry and…”

“Arthur you know there’s no place for me in Camelot.”

“Maybe that was true at one point but… I’m not him, Morgana.”

Her eyes met his.

“I know.”

They stood there, looking at one another, saying nothing. Arthur was unsure of what to do. He didn’t want her to leave but…

“This is stupid,” Merlin said. “Morgana, get over here.”

Disentangling one of his arms from Arthur’s waist, Merlin pulled her in for a side hug. Arthur felt a kick to his shin, followed by a pointed look from Merlin, then he did the same.

“It’s good to have you home,” he whispered into her hair.

He thought he heard a soft sob before she spoke.

“We’ll see if you still think so in a week. Now come on. Gwen will be looking for us and I’m starving.”

They made their way back inside the castle, Guinevere catching up with them right outside the banquet hall.

Arthur once again felt her eyes on him, scrutinizing him. After a moment’s consideration, she smiled.

“Good,” was all she said before taking Morgana by the arm to lead her back to the feast. He really did need to talk to Geoffrey about how she could be named queen without marrying him.

Merlin was trailing behind them when Arthur took his hand.

“Wait. I need to do something first.”

Years of experience told Arthur that it would be awhile before he and Merlin had another moment to themselves. There would be proclamations to make and explanations to offer and a whole host of questions to answer.

He leaned in to kiss Merlin one more time.

“Ok. Now I’m ready.”

And, holding Merlin’s hand tightly in his, he re-entered the hall.

Uther might have left behind a legacy of heartache and suffering, but with Merlin by his side, Arthur had found light in the darkness. It was only fitting that Camelot’s true golden age would have its start at the Winter Solstice.


End file.
